Always There
by Clorinda
Summary: There was the uncomfortable silence only the owls fidgeted and rustled their feathers. 'Go to him.' One shot. Written in a series of six vignettes.


**Always There **

**By** Clorinda

**Rated**: PG

**Category**: General

**Summary**: The Marauders transform into Animagi for the first time, Remus gets hurt, and Sirius makes mistakes that are perhaps irreparable. James is in the middle, giving advice. One-shot. Written in a series of six vignettes.

* * *

**I **

He blearily flickered his eyes at the sensation of the bed sinking under an added weight — whoever it was, was shifting uncomfortably, fidgeting restlessly — Remus started to wake up just to tell them off.

It was Sirius.

Every bone in Remus's body was aching, his skin felt raw, and his clothes were ripped. Weakly, he grabbed at the chest of his robes, but the dirt seemed to be gone from them. He finally made an effort to open his eyes, and sit up. Pain shot through his back, but he firmly ignored it, propping himself up clumsily against the headboard. Sirius was surgically attached to the bed.

He looked white and shaken, staring at his hands, one knee jerking to the rhythm of his bouncing foot. Remus took in his fastidious appearance, wondering bitterly if Sirius had a good night's sleep. The ashen colour of his skin made Remus's insides writhe just a little with guilt. _Sirius Black _would never admit to fear.

The curtains were drawn all around, and there were two empty chairs by the bed.

Sirius had not seemed to notice his movement, so Remus cleared his throat softly. The other boy jumped like some creature had clamped its fangs around his ankle, and hastily got off the bed.

"Morning, Lupin," he returned. He did not smile, but attempted to. It came out feebly and lopsided.

Remus jerked his head at the empty chairs. "Where are James and Peter?" His voice was quiet, civil.

Sirius flinched. "Peter's gone off to keep an eye on Snape, and James is fetching your breakfast. Are — are you still mad at me?"

Remus said nothing; he drew up the bedsheets to his chest, and picked up the book bag someone had left on the bedside table with a pitcher of water. He pulled out _One Thousand And One Herbs and Fungi_ and began to revise the properties of the plant he found. It took a minute to realize — something cold and slimy slithered down his throat — it was Wolfsbane he was reading.

He slammed the book shut.

The loud noise made Sirius wince again.

He was trying to catch Remus's eye, but the latter steadfastly looked away.

For a minute, Sirius wanted start talking — about _anything_ — how cool it was that they were Animagi — what fun they'd have — Remus would never have to be lonely again — but all the excitement had been dealt with the last night in the common room, when James impulsively grabbed Remus on his way out to the Hospital Wing. There was very little left to be said now — an apology here and there — but the cold shoulder he was being given made Sirius all too aware that he'd only make a fool of himself if he opened his mouth.

That snapped him back to his senses.

He glanced back at the boy on the bed with his tattered clothes, staring moodily into space, looking right through Sirius Black— and his lip curled at the sight. Tossing his head, he kicked a chair out of his way, and flinging away the curtain, walked right out.

He knew Remus noticed, Remus saw, Remus paled— and it gave him savage, animal pleasure.

* * *

**II **

Balancing a tray laden with a sumptuous breakfast in mid-air with his wand, James nearly dropped it all as he froze to a halt at the sight of a lone figure lounging against the wall of the Hospital Wing near Remus's window, ankles crossed, face lifted to savour the breeze.

"_What_ in the name of Merlin's underpants—?"

Lowering the tray to the grass, James ran to where his best friend was. Sirius glanced around to look at him, with the air of a man descending from the stars. James didn't let him start.

"What's going on?" he demanded breathlessly. "I thought you said you'd stay with him _inside_, Padfoot!"

"Padfoot?" he repeated. "The name's Sirius, mate. Y'now— Sirius Black — related to snot called Reg—"

"Forget it, genius," James interrupted, running a hand through his hair, shaking his head. _What was the point of having nicknames if Sirius acted amnesiac_? "Stay here," he added. "I'm gonna give Remus his food and I'll be back soon — _Accio_!"

With a rattle and a clatter, breakfast tray zoomed towards James, who barely caught it without spilling, and dashed into the building. When he came out, Sirius was up in a tree, straddling a branch with his eyes closed.

"_OI_!" yelled James, from the grass. "Stop striking poses and get _down_ here— I want to _talk_ to you!"

Sirius pulled a face, but leapt down anyway, landing elegantly in a crouch. "_What_?" he said, a little irritably. James stared down at him, irresistibly reminded of a dog, before he too got down beside him.

"What did you say to Remus?" he asked peremptorily.

"Nothing!" retorted Sirius at once. "I said _nothing_! _Did_ nothing — Merlin's beard, I swear I wouldn't be that much of a prat—" He shook his head vehemently, and that convinced his best friend. "But he's still so angry — it's not like I'd even done anything on purpose — an accident — not even that—" His voice faded away into pitiful protests, even if his lips still moved, and James's heart twinged.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, putting an arm around Sirius's shaking shoulders. "It's still too early too make up — he'll attend classes soon, get back to the tower, get used to you — it'll be okay."

"I hope so," said Sirius in a small voice. Deep inside, he knew now it wasn't so simple. Perhaps Remus would have forgiven him once long ago, but could they forget that horrible moment in time back there when Sirius lost his head and sneered at his other best friend—

He was supposed to stand guard over Remus's fears, he wasn't supposed to turn on Remus instead.

Not when he was all that the werewolf boy had left.

He leaned against James, wishing he could close his eyes and cry and fade away, but he was too proud and the tears wouldn't come. Somehow, somewhere James sensed that, and awkwardly, the two boys hugged.

* * *

**III **

Looking out the window of the Hospital Wing, Remus could see the castle of Hogwarts as if it was sprouting out of the earth and the dissipating mist. He could see Gryffindor Tower and longed to be back in his dormitory bed, familiar and comfortable and warm. He was only fifteen— he didn't deserve to be treated like filth by the world.

His gaze began to drift downwards, and he could see the grounds were empty, save the blurry outline of Hagrid sitting outside his cabin. Gaze dragging sideways ... _what the_... James and Sirius on the grass right beyond the window ... Remus's heart clenched inside as he remembered how quickly James had run out after delivering the food.

Reaching up, Remus quietly closed the window.

* * *

**IV **

"Potter?"

"_Aargh_!"

The girl had materialised behind him in the common room, making him jump. His hand, laboriously drawing Jupiter and its moons in painstaking detail, jerked, leaving a long black inky streak across Ganymede.

"Sorry," she said cautiously, watching him thunk his head on the table. "Hey— stop it, will you? People are staring."

"My brilliant, _beautiful_ drawing," moaned James, still slumped over the table. "I'll have to start again—"

"Cut it out," she said firmly, and the sound of her voice made him start and look around. He nearly fell off his chair. "_Evans_!"

Lily crossed her arms, surveying him. "It took you _that_ long?"

He leapt off the chair. "Not my fault," he said defensively. "You sound funny."

She rubbed her red nose to indicate she had a cold. "Anyway—"

"Yeah," he said interestedly. "You're _talking_ to me now?"

Lily gave him a withering look. "I'm not here to ask you out, Potter; this is about Lupin, and it's only because he's a decent guy." James nodding, ignoring how painfully his heart was thudding. He'd thought it would take a morning to sort it all out, but Remus was being cold to both of them now and borderline civil to Peter. "What happened to him? I saw him hunched over in the Prefect's bathroom— sleeves rolled up, an awful look on his face."

What _could_ he tell her? He knew she cared as much as they did— but it just wasn't her business to know they were illegal Animagi. It wasn't for her to know about Remus's guilty pleasure that he wouldn't be alone anymore on the full moon. Could he tell her that the first night they sneaked out of the Shrieking Shack, the werewolf — never accustomed to company — had been jittery. Padfoot was the only one of them with teeth — he'd been the only one of them who could really restrain Remus — wolves and dogs.

But it had gone badly, hadn't it? As the night died, and the werewolf knew the end had come, desperately trying to submerge its humanity, it had lashed out at them all. And it was Padfoot — _Sirius_ — who'd bared his teeth and growled and flung himself at Remus — the _werewolf_.

Remus had remembered. There were the gashes on his forearm where Sirius — _Sirius_ — had bitten him.

James shook his head. "Don't, Evans — leave it alone."

She flared like a lit flame, and almost lunged at him, making him stumble and fall back into his chair. "Don't you _dare_, Potter!" she hissed. "Just because you and stupid friends are too scared to go near Lupin, doesn't mean other people can't try to help him!" She bent down, bringing her face so close to his he could almost breathe the clean lavender scent of her shampoo but couldn't because the frog in his throat made it too hard to breathe.

"I. Will. _Help_. That. Boy. And. You. Will. Help. _Me_. Or. I'll. Skin. You. Un-_der_-stand?"

* * *

**V **

Sirius was sulking in the Owlery when he heard someone coming up. Whirling away from the window, he roughly beckoned to Terence, and when Evans burst in, it looked like he was about to dispatch a letter. He leaned out the window, giving the owl a lift as it spread its wings and soared. Sirius watched it glide over the Forest, over what he could imagined was the Whomping Willow, and then withdrew, starting convincingly when Evans poked him.

The look in her eyes made one flinch, but he held his ground.

"He's down there, Black," she intoned coldly, jerking her head at the window. "Did you see him?"

"No," he said truthfully.

She nodded. "I thought so," she only said.

There was the uncomfortable silence; only the owls fidgeted and rustled their feathers.

"Go to him."

* * *

**VI **

The breeze brushed close to the grass, cold and tickling, swooshing down over the grounds, scattering ripples over the lake as it tried to mirror the breeze. There was a lonely boy sprawled in the shade of the oak tree, branches spread to envelop all the waifs in the world.

There were footsteps then, rustling the blades of grass, impossibly soft footfalls, eyes that only watched. The boy raised his head, a face dissolved in unreadable emotion. No sound, no welcome. The feet came closer.

No words. No acknowledgement. Wariness. Touch me not.

The boy was drawing up his sleeve, deft, rolling movements of his wrist, mesmerising those eyes. That gaze that was almost human, almost intelligent. But it couldn't be intelligent, couldn't be human.

Pale skin, marred by ugly twin gashes that looked like the imprint of creature fangs. So deep no magic could ever heal. Resentment flowed out of the boy, his suddenly queer, tight expression.

The big, shaggy dog came forward, offering itself to the sacrificial altar. The boy wasn't looking at it, eyes fixed above the glossy black coat. The dog lowered its head, eyes just as wary, just as afraid. But that couldn't be, couldn't be afraid, and of course, dogs aren't human.

At the first contact, the boy's eyes flew closed, like it expected pain, but none came, only the softness of healing touch; his eyes stayed closed. The dog was gently licking the boy's wounds, the boy was slowly putting his arm around his companion, drawing him closer into an one-armed embrace.

For then, for now, for them— it was enough.

**—- End -—**


End file.
